Town and Country; or, life at home and abroad, without and within us eBook

“And why all this? It was because I loved
Evelina,—­a poor man’s only child!”

CHAPTER III.

Egbert’s health seemed to improve now that he
was in more comfortable quarters, and had sympathizing
friends to whom he could narrate the story of his
life. In the course of a few days he rode out
a short distance. After a rest of a week, during
which his strength had increased, he continued his
narrative, in which we had become deeply interested.

“I found a home at the cottage of Evelina.
We made arrangements to be married according to law,
and in due time I applied to the minister of the town
to perform the ceremonies. I was surprised when
he refused; yet I well knew what inducements led him
to act thus. My father was the leading man in
his church. The minister looked to him as one
of the chief pillars of support to his society, and
consequently to his means of livelihood. There
was no one in the town upon whom the public eye, religious
or political, rested with more hope than upon my father.
He exhorted in the meetings with an earnestness worthy
of the most devoted follower of Cromwell; and was
as strict and rigid in the performance of his public
religious duties as the most precise Puritan of the
old school could wish. Did the chapel need repairs,
my father was consulted. Was it proposed to make
a donation to the pastor, my father was expected to
head the list with a large subscription, and he did.
Was it strange, then, that he gave such a decided
refusal to my simple request, knowing, as he did,
and everybody did, my circumstances? It seems
not. Perhaps it was foolish for me to ask a favor
of such a man; but I did, and he had an opportunity
of exhibiting his allegiance to public opinion, and
his disregard of the voice within, that must have
commanded him to do right, and to adhere to truth and
justice in the face of all opposition.

“It was soon noised abroad that I had endeavored
to get married and had failed. There was great
rejoicing, and one old lady took the trouble to send
her man-servant to me with the message that she was
glad to know that her good pastor had indignantly refused
to place his seal on my bond of iniquity.

“The dark cloud that all this time overshadowed
my path rested also on the path of Evelina’s
father. This was all that troubled me. He,
good man, had more true religion in his soul than the
pastor and all the people in theirs; yet he was scorned
and ill-treated. All this was not new to him.
He had lived in that town four-and-forty years, and
had always been frowned upon by the boasting descendants
of proud families, and had received but little good
from their hands. The church looked upon him
as a poor, incorrigible sinner. No one spoke
to him, unless it was to ask him to perform some hard
job. It was not strange that, judging from the
works of the people who called themselves Christians,
he had a dislike to their forms. He chose a living